


(Now that) I See You

by the_brightest_light



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tangled (2010) Fusion, Emotional Manipulation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn, Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2677703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_brightest_light/pseuds/the_brightest_light
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Steter Tangled AU nobody asked for, but you're going to get anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Now that) I See You

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this is my first time writing Steter so please, please leave me some feedback even if it's just a sentence and I'll love you forever. Also the summary makes this sound fluffy, but it's pretty dark and violent (same level as the show). Any warnings I will post in the end notes. 
> 
> The mature rating is for later chapters- be patient and ye shall receive smutt ;)

Stiles had never hated a folder more in his life. To anyone else the folder would’ve looked perfectly normal. It wasn’t like one of those flimsy cardboard folders that he would stuff his (seemingly endless) homework sheets into, and it wasn’t like the case folders used by the Sheriff’s department that always smelt like chalk. It was one of those expensive folders, made of thick plastic- the expensive kind, and bright red. It lay there, on his desk, unaware that its contents was the cause for the first fight Stiles had ever had with his dad.

He’s argued with his dad before, like any other teenager- they fought whenever a teacher phoned home to complain about Stiles, when his dad ignored the delicious and non-artery clogging lunch his devoted son had made and chosen instead to eat a meal at Lucy’s that probably knocked a year off his life, the time Stiles’ had only _suggested_ that Scott to go into the Preserve…But it was the first time that they had had a real **fight** \- the kind that ended with Stiles’ lying awake all night, his throat sore, tears drying and stiffening his cheeks and his mind (for once) blank.

Stiles moved slowly as he went through his morning routine, thinking about all the homework he hadn’t done, how he’d try and get Lydia to notice him in Chemistry when he wasn’t being mocked by Harris, how he’d have to explain to Scott why they couldn’t hang out outside of school anymore…that was something Stiles had to do almost every week. Scotty was his bro okay, they had the most epic bromance ever (except maybe Banner and Stark) but he had to admit that Scott could be painfully slow at times. He didn’t seem to get that Stiles’ half answers and his constant changing of the topic was his way of saying ‘ _seriously dude, I can’t tell you why my dad only lets me leave home for school and the rest of the time I’m in my room like some lame princess in a fairy-tale because you’re a werewolf. I love you and I know you wouldn’t hurt me but my dad doesn’t trust you, he doesn’t trust anyone. Not even me._ ’

It was too late. Now that Stiles was thinking about why he couldn’t see his best friend since day one anymore, his thoughts returned to the folder. He moved towards the desk, trying not to notice the mild tremor in his hands as he took out the photos it contained. Deep breaths, in for four, hold for eight and breathe out for seven seconds. They can’t be that bad right? Maybe it was just a heat of the moment thing, and now that he’s (pretended) to have a good night’s sleep, he’ll realise that they weren’t that…and no. Just, no.

He decided to focus on the heart, _her_ heart that was lying half-eaten on the ground. When he was younger he reasoned that Claudia Stilinski’s heart must have been the size of a soccer ball- after all, everyone said she had a big heart and it must have been true because she had filled his life with more laughter and love that he thought possible. It was toddler logic, but still, how could a women who had put up with his…everything, even though his birth mother had left him in a hospital in New York as soon as she physically could, have such a small heart? It was probably smaller than his fist, but then again if Stiles’ had learnt anything in the last 24 hours it was that life never made any sense.

His eyes skipped all over the first photo, focusing on random details but never taking in the picture as a whole. Oh look, she was wearing the pale blue dress that had the floaty skirt which made her look like a fairy, there was her blood on the ground of the car park- who knew that when someone’s body was discovered after four hours the blood turned almost black? The dull lights of the car park reflected off her exposed ribs and seriously? Did the sick bastard that killed his mom really have to rip her heart out of her chest? Couldn’t they have just slit her throat, so she didn’t have to take so long to die, alone and afraid.

Stiles quickly put the photos down when he felt the grief trying to claw its way up his throat, and chose to grab his bag and run downstairs as fast as possible. His dad’s car wasn’t in the driveway and Stile’s didn’t know whether to feel upset or relieved. He ignored the cold prickle that ran over his shoulders, and decided that screw healthy he was going to have some bacon today. Pushing around the bacon that was quickly growing cold on his plate, Stiles noticed the piece of paper on the kitchen table. Having learnt his lesson from yesterday, he wanted to ignore it but the way it was positioned right on the centre of the table made him think that, for whatever reason, his dad wanted him to read it. It was a photocopy of an old and clearly damaged book, but the writing was still legible;

“ _Spark or The Spark, in recent times this individual is often referred to as the cursed one or the unfortunate._

_The Spark is a peculiarity of a small town called Beacon Hills, in the north of California. Although there are various myths and legends about how this individual came to be there are certain elements that remain constant in every tale. The forest surround this town is filled with various creatures, in particular shifters such as werewolves. They remain in the forest, which no human is allowed to enter except for the Spark. It is said that hundreds of years ago the forest and its inhabitants were protected by the powers of the Nemeton, an ancient tree that grows at a confluence of ley lines. However, once humans settled into the area they felled the tree, unaware of its properties. After this, the water in the forest became bitter to drink, all the crops failed and the cattle began to die from an unexplained illness. According to these legends, the Spark was one of the first settlers who used his/her knowledge of magic to become a conduit for the power at the confluence of the ley lines- in essence, a living Nemeton. When this first Spark died, a new one is chosen- at the moment of the Spark’s death, the new Spark’s eyes will glow white for a short amount of time. The new Spark can be anyone, from a 3 day old baby to a dying man. There is only one rule in the selection of the new Spark; they will not be the child, sibling or parent of the previous Spark._

_Having travelled to Beacon Hills first hand, the author believes that the role of the Spark is to act as a bridge between the creatures and the townspeople; as human cannot enter the forest they take it upon themselves to patrol the area, to discuss the needs of the creatures and ensure them safe passage into the town. In return, the creatures protect the town from both human and magical threats. The magic in the land is strong, with the author noting that despite visiting the area in winter the weather remained mild and pleasant, and crop and fruits were abundant. The author was fortunate_ _enough to write this entry whilst in the town, for as soon as they crossed the boundary out of the Beacon Hills they forgot all of the knowledge they had gained._

_In recent times, the Spark has been referred to as the ‘cursed’ and the ‘unfortunate’ for good reason. It was in 1886, a mere 30 years ago, that an amateur druid named William Hewitt discovered that using the blood of his daughter, Abigail who was the current Spark, resulted in him being able to perform spells that far exceeded is ability. This culminated until he ate his daughter’s heart, believing it would help him achieve everlasting life. His theory was incorrect, although he did live for another 300 years- though the townspeople were shocked by his actions, they were afraid of his power and remained silent. The next Spark chose to not reveal their identity, and this set the precedent. Unfortunately, some Sparks who were chosen whilst in a public place could not keep their identity secret and many were killed in vile and gruesome manners as part of rituals and spells that were an affront to nature. It is unknown whether current Sparks continue their duty of conversing with the creatures of the forest yet-"_

The words ran out there, but they haunted Stiles for the rest of the day. He couldn’t have told anyone what he learned in school, what he had for lunch or even whether he had talked to Scott or not. Instead he spent every moment thinking over the passage he had read, realising that everything his father had done was to _protect_ him…He needed to talk to his dad, he needed to apologise. He drove home on autopilot and debated calling the station, before deciding that this conversation needed to be in person.

He planned on skyping Scott and catching up on all the riveting Allison drama he had missed, when he noticed the man on his desk chair. The man swivelled around on the chair and somehow managed to make it look predatory and oh-so-sexy…

"Well, aren’t you going to thank me?" Every single cell in Stiles’ body was telling him to run and he was about to, when the stranger gave him this grin as if he knew what Stiles was going to do. If there was anything Stiles hated, it was being thought of as predictable so ignoring the fight or flight response that had kept humanity safe for millions of years, his own personal brand of self-defence kicked in.

“Hide yo kids, hide yo wife!”

Creepy McHottie was clearly not expecting this response, and he raised in eyebrows in the same way Stiles’ dad did when he had no idea what his son was talking about and he was too afraid to ask. Stiles just rolled his eyes.

“Seriously, have you been living in a cave for the last 5 years or something?” When the stranger only raised his eyebrows even further, Stiles sighed and continued. “The bed intruder song, dude. You have to admit it’s pretty appropriate considering the fact that I don’t know who the fuck you are, and you’ve clearly broken into the home of the Sheriff and have decided to camp out in the bedroom of his underage son-“

“Peter Hale”. When Stiles opened his mouth to reply, Peter quickly spoke again. “We have met before, and like I said you should be thanking me. After all, if it wasn’t for me your idiotic friend would have died from that asthma attack when he decided to enter the forest, all those years ago.”

Silence fell in the bedroom as Stiles’ thoughts raced through his mind. Turning slowly, he picked up the baseball bat behind his door. Peter huffed out a small a laugh, and relaxed further into the chair, placing his hands behind his head and spreading his legs even further- and how was that even possible considering the tight jeans the douche was wearing, Stiles would like to know.

“I didn’t take you to be a fool. Your human strength can’t harm me. After all, I’m not just a werewolf, I’m an Alph-"

At this point Stiles had swung Ol’ Reliable and knocked the Alpha out cold. He stood over the unconscious body of the werewolf, his heart racing, and a plan forming in his mind.

“It’s made of mountain ash bitch. And I’m not just any human”. He kept his bat close to him in case Peter woke up, and quickly packed a small rucksack with enough clothes to last a week.

“And you’re going to help me get rid of my Spark”

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty graphic description of a dead body, it's from photo but still...


End file.
